Moving On
by Two Cures for Love
Summary: Two stories in one, because the past and the present are never really separate. RLNT RLSB
1. Summer, 1996

**Title: **Moving On.

**Rating: **T.

**Pairings: **Remus/Tonks and Remus/Sirius.

**Warning: **Swearing and slash.

**Summary: **Two stories in one, because the past and the present are never really separate.

**Disclaimer:** Everyone and everything that you recognise as being from the 'Harry Potter'books belongs to J.K. Rowling, who is definitely not me.

* * *

Summer, 1996.

It's a bright Summer's day, around lunch-time, and a young woman is walking down a street in one of the poorer parts of a large town.

She's in her twenties, dark-haired, with a pale, heart-shaped face that looks slightly tired and drawn. She's carrying a large picnic basket. The street is narrow, and consists of two facing rows of old-looking terraced houses. As she walks, the woman is looking at the doors of the houses, watching them count down. When she reaches number 31, she stops and knocks on the door.

There's no answer, so she knocks again, harder.

"Remus!" she calls through the letterbox, in a clear, ringing voice. "Remus, I know you're there. Kingsley told me where you live, and I'm not leaving until I've seen you."

The silence continues for a few moments, and as she lifts her hand to knock again, the door opens.

The man who opens the door stands slightly stooped, as if bowed under a heavy burden. His brown hair is liberally specked with grey, and his eyes are surrounded by lines. The lower half of his face is covered in stubble. His clothes are old, loose and unwashed.

"Afternoon, Tonks," he says in a voice that's almost a croak.

"Wotcher, Remus," she replies, uncertain as to how to proceed.

"Well, you've seen me," says Remus. "So you can leave."

Tonks holds up her basket. "But I've brought food. Don't tell me you don't need it because I can tell you're not eating properly. You look worn out."

He sighs, shrugs, and returns into his house. Tonks follows him, shutting the door behind her. On entering the living room, she pulls a slight face. Remus sees it.

"Don't start," he says. "I haven't exactly been in the mood to clean up."

"That's understandable. But we should clean it up now. This has gone on for long enough."

He turns to her, slightly aghast. "In your mind, is two weeks the maximum grieving time a person's allowed?"

"No," replies Tonks in a level voice. "But it's the longest a person should be allowed to neglect themselves like this. Now, do you know any cleaning spells? I know a few but they never seem to work properly."

Remus picks up his wand from the sofa, concentrates, and mutters a spell. The room becomes instantly clean and tidy, everything returned to its proper place.

"Excellent," says Tonks, striding to the window. She pulls apart the curtains and pushes open the window, allowing the soft sunlight in. "That's better, this place needs a bit of fresh air. Now, sit down and open that basket."

Remus follows her instructions and begins to eat one of a large pile of sandwiches. "How come you've come?" he asks. "You don't strike me as the type of person who looks after people."

Tonks shrugs, non-commital, and sits down. "I suppose we've got something in common now, haven't we? I lost him, too."

Remus pales, looking away from her.

"I know it's not the same," she continues. "He was only my second cousin and we only really knew each other for a few months, but I felt like we had something in common -"

"- he told me once, that you were one of the few people in his family who resembled him at all, personality-wise." Remus's voice is shaking. "So he felt it too, that something."

Tonks gently places her hand on top of his. "I know he was your best friend, but you have to keep living. He wouldn't want you to be hidden away like this -"

"- like he was?"

"_Exactly_. He knew exactly how horrible it is to be shut away in a house with nothing but your thoughts. He would never want you to know how it felt."

"He was the only person I had left, Tonks." Remus looks distraught.

"He wasn't. I know he was the most important, but there are lots of people who care for you. This past fortnight, the whole Order's been worried. We know how much he meant to you -"

"- you _don't._"

Tonks sighs, and squeezes his hand. "You're not alone, Remus. Let me help you. Let us all help you. You don't need to cope with this grief by yourself."

She digs into the picnic basket and retrieves a flask. She pours out a cup full of hot tea. "My dad always says tea's the answer to every problem," she says, handing him the cup. "So I always bring some when I'm visiting a friend in need."

He forces a small smile and sips the tea. "If you were really like Sirius, you'd have put firewhiskey in this."

Tonks shrugs. "I never said I _was _him. Just that I felt his absence too."

"It's probably just as well. I'm not good with firewhiskey. Other alcohol, I manage fine, but firewhiskey usually makes me act a bit strangely. Sirius says-" he breaks off, shakes his head, and lifts the cup back to his mouth with trembling hands.

Tonks's heart aches for the man she's sitting beside. He looks so old, so tired, so defeated. She hasn't known him long - less than a year - and all that time he's looked a little strained, a little under pressure. But it was nothing compared the way he looks now, and she remembers clearly how Remus changed when he was around her own second cousin. She remembers the light that glowed from his deep brown eyes. She remembers his smile, and wishes that she knew how to induce it. Not the polite smile that he always gave everyone, but the real, sincere smile that always made Sirius look like he'd found out how to turn the sun on.

She doesn't want to replace Sirius - and she knows she couldn't, even if she wanted to - but it's not enough to be related to him, it's not enough to be like him in some small ways. If she's going to get Remus through this then she needs to make him feel like Sirius made him feel. She needs to show him that happiness didn't die with his friend. But it's a tough prospect. How can she compete with a friendship that began before she was born?

Tonks looks at Remus and she wants to save him. She's never really felt like that before. But she looks at his old-looking, haggard face, and wishes, more than anything, that she knew how to light it up.

"You're not to worry about anything," she says. "There's loads of food in the basket, and some drink too, and it's all for you. I'm going to stay here this afternoon for as long as you want me, and I'm going to come back tomorrow, too. And every day for as long as I think I need to. You don't need to worry anymore, Remus. I'm going to help you."

He looks at her with a slightly shell-shocked air. "Why are you doing this?"

"Sirius was my favourite second cousin. And you were Sirius's best friend. I owe it to him to look out for you. And I'm your friend. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been trying to be friendly to you for months. I want to help. We're going to get through this together, you don't need to do it alone."

"Thank you," he says. "If you're really sure."

For answer, she wraps her arms around him gently.

He holds on tight, holds on to her human warmth and simple kindness. He holds on to her like a dying man, clinging to his only hope for salvation.

"We'll get through it," murmurs Tonks. "You don't have to lock yourself away. I'm here to help you."

His only answer is to hold her tighter.


	2. Halloween, 1977

Halloween, 1977.

Remus walked along the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower with a smile on his face. It had been a good night, he felt, despite the costume his friends had insisted upon. He'd long since discarded the head to the costume, but he felt sure that nobody would mind - it _had _been uncomfortably hot inside it, especially after he'd had a couple of drinks, which always made his face flush anyway. Now, he looked like a large, human-headed teddy bear. With claws. Which was, he thought, hugely preferable to looking like a werewolf. It was Remus's opinion that he looked like a werewolf one night a month too many as it was.

When he reached the tower, he gave the password to the Fat Lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. Music was playing, loud and raucous, and the room was filled with students in costumes, dancing, chatting and laughing. Walking dramatically through the crowd was an evil demon. He was dressed in black clothes with red detailing, including a voluminous, red-lined cape. He was also wearing a mask and a top hat. The costume, however, was simply a vehicle for the personality. The demon leaped around, gesturing, proclaiming, chanting.

Remus stood at the door, smiling, as the demon made its way over to him. When it was right up close, the demon lifted its mask to reveal shining eyes and a manic-looking grin.

"You know what, Sirius? You don't need the mask," said Remus. "If anything, it makes you _less _frightening."

"I wanted to be anonymous."

"It didn't work. I recognised your walk. You walk like there's a voice in your head telling you how brilliant you are."

Sirius grinned, taking off his hat in order to remove his mask, and showing his full face for the first time. It was a strong, handsome face, with an angular jaw-line, shapely lips and expressive grey eyes, with alabaster skin and framed by soft black hair. He casually put the hat on Remus's head.

"Great," muttered Remus. "Now I look like a 19th century teddy bear."

"It's your own fault. Where's your head gone?"

"I threw it out of the window. It was too hot."

"You bastard. How was Slughorn's party? And why are you back so early?" Sirius pouted.

"You know, pulling that face might make me a little more sympathetic if you hadn't repeatedly turned down Slughorn's invitations," said Remus with a small smile. "The party was alright, but I thought I'd come back up here and experience the more debauched version."

"How did you know it was going to be debauched?"

"_You _organised it."

Sirius's eyes glittered.

"Where's Peter, anyway?" asked Remus.

"Snogging Helen."

"_What? _I thought she didn't like him!"

Sirius smirked. "She just needed a bit of persuading. I helped. Told her all about all of Peter's good points. Told her I'd shag him myself, if the idea didn't repulse me."

"That was nice of you. Where are they?"

Remus looked over to where Sirius was pointing, but all he could see were two hands holding on to a large pair of wings. "Peter's under that?"

Sirius nodded. "She's dressed as a _butterfly. _Girls really don't understand Halloween, do they? They never dress up as anything scary."

"I know what you mean. Lily was dressed as an angel. We're going to have to class James as a girl this year," said Remus, faux-sadly. "_Prince Charming, _I ask you."

"Where are our esteemed Head Boy and Girl, anyway?"

Remus smiled. "I left them at the party. They were sitting in a corner...getting to know each other."

Sirius's eyes widened. "No way," he whispered. "I _missed _that?"

"That's what you get for shunning Slughorn's get-togethers."

Sirius leaned his head back and laughed hysterically. "Romantic holiday, Halloween, isn't it?"

Remus joined in the laughter. "Most romantic of the lot. So why aren't you taking advantage of it with some pretty young thing?"

"I am," said Sirius, wiggling his eyebrows.

Remus slapped his arm softly. "Don't be a dick. Go and find a girl."

"I'll manage without, tonight. We single Marauders should stick together - it sounds like Prongs and Wormtail are going to be too busy _sighing_ and _hand-holding_ to have any fun. Do you fancy a walk?"

"What about your party?"

"It'll look after itself now, I think."

With a flourish of his cape, Sirius lead his friend out of the common room. The two boys began walking down the corridor, chatting, laughing and teasing as they went.

"I can't _believe _you threw your head out of the window," said Sirius. "I spent ages making that. And what if it had landed on someone?"

"Sirius, I know for a fact that you ordered it from Gladrags. And who's going to be walking the grounds at this time of night?"

"Hagrid?"

"Well, a few pounds of fake werewolf-head isn't exactly going to knock _him _out, is it?"

Sirius snickered. "He'll probably try to adopt it."

Remus laughed, and the pair kept walking. At the next corner, Sirius walked into Remus.

"Shit, Sirius," he said, regaining his balance. "How much did you drink at the party?"

Sirius shrugged. "Nothing. Well, not much. But I want to go this way."

Remus consented, and they continued their walk.

"Why did you leave Slughorn's party, then?"

"I thought I'd already told you?"

"All you told me was that you'd rather be with me, which I already knew," Sirius smirked.

"You really are a cocky bastard, aren't you? You _know _I hate Slughorn's parties."

"Why not just turn down his invitations?"

"Because I'm not you."

Chastened, Sirius lead Remus down another corridor. "Maybe I'll go to the next one," he said casually. "Or maybe you could miss it and hang out with me."

"It wouldn't be fair for you to leave Peter on his own. And it wouldn't be fair for me to leave James."

"As if they'd care," snorted Sirius. "They've both got _girls _now. Turn right."

"You don't need to say it like we're never going to see them again."

"Maybe we won't," said Sirius with a tragic expression. "Maybe their stupid girlfriends will abduct them and torture them and kill them."

Remus looked at Sirius strangely. "Try to be happy for them. It's all a part of growing up."

"But you're the most grown-up person I know, and you don't go running off with floozies. This way, now."

"Floozies wouldn't have me. And, well, I wouldn't have them. I don't know why you're in such a mood. All you have to do is _smile _at girls and they fall down at your feet."

Sirius stood still. "Here we are."

"It's a corridor. Sirius, you're acting strangely."

"Which corridor is it?"

Remus glances along the passage. "Erm, Charms, I think."

Sirius turns to him, a slightly exasperated expression on his face. "And do you remember what James discovered about the Charms corridor?"

"It's the perfect place for pranking, because due to where it is in comparison with everywhere else, there's no need for anyone to walk down it after hours."

"Exactly!"

"You're going to do a prank?"

"No. I just want to...just, stand there for a bit." Sirius pulled Remus slightly along the corridor, and leaned him against a wall. "That's it. Okay, right..."

"Sirius, honestly...get a girlfriend. Then James and Peter and you will be happy with your girls, and I will be happy on my own somewhere, uninterrupted with a good book and some hot chocolate."

"I don't _want _a girlfriend."

"Then why are you acting so -"

"- I want you."

Remus gulped. "Pardon?"

"You heard." Suddenly, Sirius didn't seem so confident as he usually did. He seemed nervous, vulnerable.

Remus reached out to touch his arm. "Sirius, are you -"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed!" Sirius jerked his arm away and turned, pacing in a small circle. "Don't tell me we're not different with each other than with anybody else -"

"- we're friends," said Remus, uncertainly.

"And is that all there is?"

"I -"

"Peter's got himself a nice girl. He likes her. James is finally going out with the girl he's been obsessing over for years. And I bet you they're both so happy, so content, and you know what?" Sirius gestured hopelessly. "I'm _jealous. _I don't want Helen, I don't want Lily, I don't want any other girl, whether they throw themselves at me or not. James and Peter are both so happy and I want to know what that feels like, but I _can't, _because the only person I want in that way - the only person I've _ever _truly wanted that way - is a _moron, _a stupid, naive moron who thinks the happiness I want can be found in _books _and _hot chocolate._"

He paced some more, before turning and looking deep into Remus's eyes. Remus looked back, confused.

"You said the idea repulsed you -"

"I was talking about Peter. Peter doesn't make my heart go all fluttery like a girl."

"Girls don't flutter."

"Their hearts do. Don't you _see_, Remus?" He flailed his arms a little, before bringing them to rest on Remus's shoulders.

He closed his eyes tight, took a deep breath, and pushed his lips against Remus's. It wasn't much of a kiss. It was just hot breath and the pressure of lips and before Remus could form coherent thought, it was gone. Sirius stepped back, eyes searching. He put his hand in his hair and looked away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said. "That shouldn't have...shit, I'm sorry..."

Remus reached out to grab Sirius's hand, hoping that his hand could communicate more than his voice, which didn't seem to be working, but before he could touch him, Sirius was gone, walking swiftly down the corridor.

Remus touched his lips, dazed, leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes, and muttered, "What the fuck?"


	3. Summer, 1996, part 2

**Disclaimer: **The poem at the end of this chapter is 'Funeral Blues' by W.H. Auden.

* * *

Summer, 1996.

The next day, Tonks doesn't need to count down the numbers on the doors. She already knows what his house looks like. She remembers the peeling paintwork, the missing roof-tiles, the shabby curtains. She's committed it all to memory, and knows exactly what she's doing. She strides down the street, enjoying the Summer sunshine in a wide-brimmed hat.

When she gets to the door, she knocks, and he answers almost immediately. He looks much as he did yesterday, but less shocked to see her. She smiles, holding out a new basket - a smaller one today, and follows him into his house.

"What's in the bag?" he asks, gesturing towards a carrier bag in her other hand.

She peers into it. "Shower gel, shampoo, shaving foam, and a razor," she says. "Not trying to tell you you're smelly and hairy, but -"

"- but I am?"

Her eyes meet his, and she shrugs. "Maybe a little bit. You'll feel better after a shower, anyway. You go upstairs and do that, and I'll stay down here."

He takes the bag from her, slightly dazed, and follows her instructions.

Tonks repeats yesterday's actions of opening the curtains and window, before hanging her hat over the side of the sofa and deciding to lay out some food for them both. She goes to the kitchen to find some crockery, only to find that everything in the cupboards is thick with dust. Rather than risking a cleaning spell, she goes to the sink, and is glad to find a sponge and some washing-up liquid. She fills up the sink with hot bubbles, and begins washing some plates.

She starts singing to herself. She's no Celestina Warbeck but she can carry a tune, and even starts dancing around the kitchen as she washes the dishes.

"What're you singing?" comes Remus's voice from the doorway, and Tonks, surprised, drops the plate she's holding.

"_Shit._" Tonks quickly takes her wand out of her pocket and reassembles the plate. She turns to see Remus, clean-shaven, damp-haired, looking at her curiously. "It was the new Weird Sisters song. I'm a bit of a fan."

"Why are you washing my plates?"

"I was going to prepare lunch for us. I saw that your crockery could do with a clean, but I'm not great with cleaning spells - I tend to break stuff, Mum says it's because I'm over-enthusiastic - so I thought I'd wash them. Only, then you made me jump."

"Don't worry about it. Do you want some help?"

"Go on then."

He moves over to stand beside her at the sink, and he starts drying the dishes she's washed. They continue in silence for a while, before Remus says, "You seem happy. You know...with the singing, and everything."

Tonks turns to him, but he's not looking at her. His eyes are fixed firmly on the plate he's drying.

"Sometimes I find that doing happy things makes me happy."

He nods. "I used to feel like that."

"Not anymore?"

Remus doesn't answer. It's on the tip of his tongue, the truth. He almost tells her that ever since Sirius died, he's felt like his heart has been scooped out. He almost tells her that sometimes, the realisation of his loss hits him so hard that he can't move, can't think. He almost tells her that everything seems pointless now, that every part of him that was glad to be alive died the moment Sirius fell through that veil.

He doesn't tell her, though. He just keeps drying dishes, pretending he doesn't notice her concerned glances. Tonks is young, idealistic, and he can't bring himself to be the person who tells her how it feels to lose someone important.

When all of the dishes are washed and dried, Tonks picks up two plates and takes them to the living room. There, she opens her basket and begins serving food. "Sit down and eat up," she says, handing him a plate.

He thanks her, sits down and begins to eat.

"I should pay you, for the food," he says.

"Don't be stupid. Most of it's made by Mum, anyway - I'm crap at cooking - and she doesn't mind, because I asked her."

"Tonks, why are you doing this?"

"We've _been _through this," says Tonks, with a sigh. "You're a friend. I'm sure you'd do the same for me."

Remus nods, but feels slightly guilty. Until yesterday, Tonks was just a member of the Order. Someone he got on with, yes, and someone he'd be concerned for if something bad happened to her - but he feels sure he'd never have thought to go to the lengths she's going to.

They eat their meal without much conversation, and when they've finished they wash the dishes.

"I thought," said Tonks, drying her hands, "We could go for a walk this afternoon."

"What?"

"Well, it's a nice day, and -"

"- I don't want to go out."

Tonks places one hand on Remus's arm. "You can't stay indoors forever. You could do with some sunshine, and fresh air. We can go to the park."

"I don't -"

"Trust me, Remus. It's better for you to do it sooner rather than later. I know you're grieving, but you shouldn't shut yourself away. Put your shoes on, I'll get my hat. It's too good a day to waste indoors."

A few minutes later, Remus has to admit, walking down the street with Tonks's hand tucked behind his arm, it _is _a nice day. One of those rare Summer days, where it's neither grey and rainy nor too humid to move. The sun is high in the sky, and a gentle breeze blows through their hair as they walk along.

When they get to the park, the scene is idyllic. The trees are tall and thick with foliage, and the grass is a lush green (one thing the British weather is good for), a startling contrast with the grey and brown of the streets that surround it. The park is not overcrowded, but there are plenty of people there. Lone sunbathers, using open books as much to shield their eyes from the sun as to pass the time. Lovers, lying together, lazy hands stroking hair, touching limbs. Families sitting on picnic blankets, children running and laughing and playing. Joggers stopping for ice creams.

"Isn't this nice?" says Tonks with a smile, slowing her walk to a stroll and taking in her surroundings.

"It's...yeah," says Remus, and feels, walking through the park with the sun beating down on him, the wind in his hair, and this strange young woman who calls herself his friend on his arm, that perhaps there is some good in the world. Perhaps there _is _some hope.

There's an oak tree in one corner of the park, and Remus knows it well, although his best memories of it are many years old. As they approach it, he looks at it, half wanting to look away, to save himself the pain, and half desperate to lie underneath it and bathe in memories. His gaze drops to the base of the tree, and what he sees there makes him stop in his tracks.

It's a big, black dog. It's not him, of course. People don't come back from the dead, for one thing. And for another, he'd never chase sticks for some young, happy family. Especially when Remus was approaching.

But Remus is shocked. He stands still. He knows it's not Padfoot, he knows it's just a dog. But a big, black dog, so close to their tree? His hands begin to shake.

"Remus, are you okay?" Tonks follows Remus's eyeline. "Oh. Remus, come on, come over here." And she pulls him forward, along the path, past the tree, further, until the dog is out of sight. She stops him, puts her hands on his shoulders, and peers into his eyes with concern. "You're okay, Remus. It wasn't him."

"I _know. _I just - for a split second...I hoped."

She grabs his arm once more, and leads him through the rest of the park. She chatters away slightly, although it's obvious her mind isn't on what she's saying, and he goes where she leads him, almost as if in a trance, gazing blankly at everything he passes, taking nothing in. The brief hope he felt a few minutes ago has gone, and he feels incredibly vulnerable now, out in the park and filled so completely with grief.

It takes them a while to get to the other side of the park, because they're walking quite slowly. But when they do get there, Tonks leads Remus out through the gates, and they walk through the streets to get back to Remus's little house. When they get back, Remus makes tea, and when they've drunk it, he asks Tonks to leave.

"I shouldn't leave yet -"

"Please." Remus's voice sounds firm. "I'm sorry if I seem rude, but I'm very tired, and I'd like to have a lie down."

Tonks gives him a searching look, one that he's already come to expect. "I'll be back tomorrow," she promises, putting on her hat and leaving with a brief but solemn goodbye.

Later that day, around twilight, Remus leaves his house again. In the cool, evening air, he feels revitalised, and walks with purpose until he reaches the park. Once inside, he walks more slowly, hesitantly approaching the oak. He lowers himself to the floor and sits beneath it, looking at the almost-empty park, and at the darkening sky. He pulls a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolds it and silently reads the words upon it, taking some comfort from the words of a Muggle who seemed, perhaps, to understand...

_Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,  
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,  
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum  
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come._

_Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead  
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.  
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,  
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves._

_He was my North, my South, my East and West,  
My working week and my Sunday rest,  
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;  
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong._

_T__he stars are not wanted now; put out every one,  
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,  
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;  
For nothing now can ever come to any good. _

He sits, silent and still, for a few minutes. He wipes away a tear impatiently with the back of his hand, folds up the paper again, and instead of returning it to his pocket, he tucks it underneath one of the tree's roots. He stands up, takes a deep breath, and begins the walk home.


	4. November, 1977

November, 1977.

You could say what you liked about Sirius Black, Remus thought, but you simply could not deny that he was a bona fide, first-rate, top-class evader. He was notorious for it. It was widely known throughout Hogwarts that if Sirius Black was talking to you about something, it was because he wanted to talk to you about it. Sirius couldn't be tricked or persuaded into any conversation he didn't want, except, perhaps, by Professor Dumbledore. Or his friends, if it was something really serious. Sometimes. Sometimes, it was as simple and blatant as interrupting and changing the subject. Or as tactless as standing up and walking away. Other times, it was unfathomable. You'd start a conversation about feelings, or the mysterious smell of wet dog on your bed, and within a minute, without quite knowing how, you'd be debating politics or playing chess.

There was obviously a skill to it, and normally, Remus would appreciate the talent involved. But after two weeks of being thoroughly evaded, he was inclined to believe that all Sirius's evasion did for him was make him a really tricky bastard.

He spied his chance, however, one time in mid-November. Sirius was in the Transfiguration classroom, hiding from Professor McGonagall, who was searching the school, trying to find him for a detention.

"What I don't understand," said Remus, perched stiffly on the edge of a desk, "is the difference between being here with her and being here hiding from her."

Sirius smirked and, from his position in Professor McGonagall's chair, rested his feet comfortably on her desk. "Because it winds her up, and because it means I don't have to actually do anything, just a little bit of planning and a multiplication charm."

Remus sighed, failing to hide a smile. "Look, Sirius -"

"- if she comes, make sure you put on the Cloak," said Sirius, pulling James's Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and throwing it towards Remus, who rested it upon his own bag on the desk beside him. "I can excuse myself, but it makes it harder if -"

"You can't evade me forever," said Remus, calmly pulling a thread from his sleeve.

"What?"

"I've known you for too long. I've been watching you. You'll have to talk to me sooner or later."

Sirius scanned the top of the desk for a moment, before seizing on a pair of glasses. He put them on the end of his nose, put his feet down, and leaned forward, hands together. "Mr. Lupin," he said, in a rich, deep voice. "What do you want to talk about?"

Remus didn't laugh, didn't let himself get distracted. "Halloween."

"Ah, a fine tradition! Pumpkins, mead, and if you do it properly, a decent fancy dress -"

"I want to know why you kissed me. And I want to know why you ran away. And I want to know why you've been evading me ever since."

For a moment, Sirius looked rather a lot like a fish. For several more moments, the state of his face did not improve. Remus sat there, nonchalant and unmoving, looking thousands of times braver than he felt.

"I was - I mean, there was...that is to say - there was Firewhiskey," said Sirius, lamely. "At the party."

"It was a drunken mistake?"

"I. Shit, I..." Sirius took a deep breath, before looking Remus straight in the eye. "I probably wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been drinking -"

Remus nodded, and stood up, moving towards the door.

"- but that doesn't mean I regret it!"

Remus turned slowly, to see Sirius standing up now, Professor McGonagall's glasses still perched precariously upon his nose. Sirius gestured towards a seat, and Remus obliged by sitting in it. Sirius took the seat next to him, quickly grabbing his belongings from McGonagall's desk.

"I kissed you," said Sirius, looking at anything but Remus, "because I wanted to for ages, and drink made me brave - or stupid - and then, there you were, and you looked a bit like a teddy bear, and I just really wanted..." he looked for a moment as if he was struggling for words. "I didn't want to spend my whole life not knowing what it felt like to kiss you. I ran away because I was horrifically embarrassed, and that's why I've been evading you, too."

There was a few moments of silence. Remus wracked his brains, trying to think of the right thing to say. Instead, he settled for, "But you don't get embarrassed."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Evidence points to the contrary, I'm afraid. Look, Moony, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have done it, but -"

"I'm glad you did."

Sirius's fish impression returned. "What?"

"You heard. I...I won't pretend I wasn't shocked. Or that I'd ever thought about it before then - well, maybe a little," - here, Sirius smirked slightly - "but since then I keep thinking about it, and I think, maybe, that's some sort of a sign. That maybe...if you want...we should do it again. Lots of times, if we like it."

"An indefinite amount of times?"

Remus nodded.

Sirius grabbed his wrist and dragged him to his feet. They stood there, in the middle of the Transfiguration classroom, looking at each other nervously. Remus could feel Sirius's hand still on his wrist, shaking and slightly sweaty. He lifted his hand slightly to touch Sirius's wrist, and without warning or conscious decision, he kissed Sirius, who moved his free hand to Remus's jaw-line. They broke apart, and looked at each other some more. Sirius stroked Remus's cheek slightly.

"I...we should," Sirius gulped. "I think we should talk about this. Properly."

Remus smiled slightly. "That's what I've been trying to do for the past two weeks."

"I thought you wanted to hunt me down and kill me," said Sirius with a smile. "What's wrong?" he asked, as Remus stiffened, standing still and silent with his hand still on Sirius's wrist.

He put a finger to his lips, listening hard, before whispering, "Footsteps! McGonagall's coming!"

They moved apart at once, Sirius diving across the room to pick up the Invisibility Cloak. He flung it at Remus, who quickly hid himself beneath it. Sirius sat down at a desk, quickly pulled a roll of parchment, a quill and ink out of his bag, and leisurely scribbled a line.

It was mere seconds until Professor McGonagall entered the room. Looking flustered, she glanced around the room, before shaking her head at Sirius. "Mr. Black, where on _Earth _have you been?"

Sirius looked up from his parchment with an innocent - _too _innocent - expression. "Right here, Professor. When you didn't turn up, I started doing my usual lines - I've done nearly three feet, is that okay?"

McGonagall strode over to Sirius - nearly, had she known it, knocking Remus into a desk - and peered at the parchment, which contained, as the boy stated, nearly three feet of identical lines:

_I must not harass, attack or intimidate any of Hogwart's students, staff or visitors._

Sirius looked up at her with a smile.

"Mr. Black, I am most surprised," she said, "to see that you are wearing my spectacles."

"Oh," said Sirius, fumbling the spectacles off his face. "I had a bit of a headache, thought I was straining my eyes, then I saw these on your desk and thought I'd give them a go."

"Quite," said Professor McGonagall, retrieving her glasses, taking Sirius's lines and walking to her desk, before sitting down and opening a book. "You can gather your belongings and leave now. This detention has finished."

With a triumphant grin, Sirius quickly packed his bag and walked towards the door of the classroom. Invisibly, Remus followed, weaving in and out of desks and chairs as quickly and quietly as possible. When Sirius placed his hand on the door handle, McGonagall spoke again, without looking up from her book.

"Come back for detention again for the next three nights, Mr. Black," she said.

"What? Why?"

"One night for treating detention like a game. One night for doing a multiplication charm rather than writing out the lines yourself. And one night for the misplaced apostrophe. You're a seventh-year, Black, you should have grasped the rudiments of grammar by now. Especially in _that _sentence."

Sirius opened the door.

"And one night for you, Mr. Lupin," said McGonagall, casually turning a page. "Your presence tonight suggests an insatiable desire for detention, and I would not be fulfilling my duties as a teacher by denying you something so important to you. Next time, though, just ask."

There was a stunned silence, followed by a shuffling noise. Then, the small rucksack (with the neatly-written label, 'Remus Lupin, Gryffindor') on the desk in front of McGonagall's lifted into the air. With the sound of more rapid footfalls, it sped across the room and out of the door, quickly followed by Sirius Black.

When the door slammed shut, Professor McGonagall allowed herself a small smile.


	5. Summer, 1996, part 3

**Author's Note: **Hello! I hate to beg for reviews, it feels really needy, but this is my fifth chapter and I've only had one review...please, if you're reading, could you drop me a line? I just want to know if anyone's bothered about my story, and if's good or bad or anywhere inbetween. I'm not going to threaten to stop writing it if I don't get a certain amount of reviews or anything like that, but it's strange to work without feedback and I feel a bit like I'm working in the dark here, not knowing how it's going. Okay, end of begging...here's chapter 5. :)

* * *

Summer, 1996.

It's over a week before there's any change to Remus's routine. One day, early in the morning, he's sitting on his sofa with a bowl of cereal. He's been up most of the night - he hasn't slept properly since Sirius's death -, and it shows in the circles around his eyes. His hair is untidy, and his pyjamas old and worn. He sits, spooning cereal slowly into his mouth, gazing at the wall opposite him, despite the open book on his lap.

_Knock, knock._

He looks up in surprise. "Tonks?" he mutters to himself, brow furrowed. Placing his bowl on his coffee table and standing up, not noticing his book falling to the floor, he makes his way to the front door and, as he opens it, grumbles, "Bit early, aren't you?"

"I beg your pardon," says Professor Dumbledore. "Is this an inconvenient time?"

Remus's jaw drops. "Albus," he says, before shaking his head, looking slightly confused. "Erm, come in. It's a bit of a mess, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting you."

Dumbledore enters the house with a pleasant smile. "But you were expecting someone?"

Remus nods. "Tonks. She's been visiting. Bringing food."

"That's very kind of her."

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Dumbledore assents, and Remus busies himself in the kitchen for a few moments, before carrying two tea-cups into the living room. He sits next to the sofa where Dumbledore has positioned himself. Dumbledore sips his tea, surveying Remus over his spectacles. Remus, reminded of his schooldays, shuffles uncomfortably. Dumbledore raises an eyebrow.

"I am sorry," he says, "that I have not been to visit you sooner. I have been very busy, but..." he shrugs his shoulders. "You are an old friend. How are you?"

"I'm...okay," says Remus, not wholly convincingly.

"Have you seen many people?"

Remus shakes his head. "Some tried to get in touch, at first...Kingsley, Hestia...the Weasleys were quite persistent. I should get in touch, apologise - I ignored everyone's attempts to contact me. The only person I've seen since...since that night, is Tonks."

"Ah, and are you finding Miss Tonks's visits helpful?"

"Yes," says Remus thoughtfully. "I mean, it's annoying sometimes, sometimes I just want to be left alone, but I always feel better when she's been to visit. It's talking to people that does it, I suppose. Albus, do you know why she's doing it? Visiting me? She tried to explain, but I'm still confused."

"Nymphadora thinks very highly of you. I believe she would have come to visit sooner, but she was rather badly injured in the Department of Mysteries."

Remus looks up quickly. "Really?"

"Don't worry about it, Remus. You are grieving. It's to be expected that you'll be a little behind in the goings-on of your friends. Things don't go back to normal immediately, everyone in the Order knows that."

"I know, I...it'll just take time. I'll be okay"

Dumbledore raises his tea-cup in a silent toast. "Sirius would be proud of you."

Remus looks away. "He was my best friend," he says, in a small, hollow voice. "I think, without him, I'd've been very different."

"He was a remarkable man."

"I know he wasn't perfect," says Remus into his cup. "But he would have been different...imperfect in a different way, if circumstances had been different. Caring about people ruined his life, and then it took it."

Dumbledore nods. "But a Sirius who didn't care about people would have been a much worse person - whatever else was different."

They're silent for a moment. They sit, drinking tea, Remus avoiding Dumbledore's gaze.

"Remus, I must admit that this is more than a social visit. I've come to ask you a favour."

Remus raises an eyebrow, but doesn't speak.

"Many years ago," Dumbledore continues, "You performed an invaluable service for the Order of the Phoenix. I've come to ask you if you'd consider performing it again."

Remus's eyes widen. "You want me to spy on the werewolf community again?"

Dumbledore nods. "Fenrir Greyback is working for Voldemort, and what sources I have imply that there are many disgruntled werewolves who are thinking of offering their services, too. The Order needs better information. I understand that this is a difficult decision for you, and the timing is most unfortunate. But you are the best person - the _only _person, really - for the job."

"Ready-made," mutters Remus.

"It is not simply your condition," says Dumbledore, looking concerned. "You have done the job before, you are excellent at defensive magic, and you are very good at getting people to like you - all very important skills. And the Order and I trust you."

"Th...Thank you," says Remus. "I don't know what to say. Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Of course," replies Dumbledore. "Get in touch with me when you've made a decision."

A little while later, he leaves.

It's nearly two in the afternoon when Tonks arrives that day. "Sorry, I'm late," she says, handing Remus the day's basket and bustling in with the kind of cheerfulness he's come to expect. "Oh, excellent!" says Tonks happily, when she's reached the living room. She sees that the curtains are open and the room is tidy. She turns back to look at Remus, who is washed, shaved and dressed. "Are things going well?" she asks.

Remus shrugs. "I was thinking. I always find it easier to work stuff out when I'm doing things."

Tonks looks at him shrewdly. "Considering Dumbledore's offer?"

For the second time that day, Remus's jaw drops. "How did you...?"

"Dumbledore came to see me. That's why I was late. He told me all about it."

"Right, well -"

"Have you made a decision?"

Remus shakes his head, sitting down. "I really don't know what to do. I mean, I don't even know the plan, or how I'd keep in touch with the Order. I mean, I could send a Patronus, but Dumbledore usually likes people on missions like this to have real contact with members of the Order. Last time, a friend of mine did it - Edgar, he was called. He was really good at charms, he could change his appearance completely in just a couple of minutes, but he died in the last war, and I don't think there's anyone else that good...Flitwick could do it, I suppose, but he has to be at Hogwarts." He looks up at Tonks, and sees, in place of the dark-haired, serious-faced young woman who's been visiting him for the past few days, a wrinkled, hook-nosed old woman with a rather frightening grin. Remus stares. "What? No...is this why Dumbledore contacted you?"

Tonks nods, before pulling a bit of a face and changing back into a more recognisable version of herself. "I can change myself in seconds, Remus. I can be your liaison."

"I can't put you in that kind of danger, Tonks."

Tonks laughs, slightly bitterly. "Remus, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm used to danger. I'm a fully-trained Auror -"

"- you're a junior Auror, you haven't been trained for that long!"

"Long enough, Remus. Please, let me help you."

He leans forward, putting his head in his hands. "You're so young..."

"I'm older than you were when you started fighting Voldemort," says Tonks, matter-of-factly. "I'm older than you were when Voldemort was defeated."

"Hardly."

"Two years, actually."

"Oh, _well _then, that's okay," says Remus, sarcastically.

"Look, Remus," says Tonks, "I'm honoured that you want to protect me. But there's really no need. Dumbledore wouldn't have asked me to do it if he thought I was too young or not qualified to do it. But I'll shut up about that now," she says, reaching for the basket that Remus has placed beside the sofa. "You let me know when you've decided, but for now we'll have some of Mum's trademark pie."

And, for the moment at least, the subject is dropped.


	6. November, 1977, part 2

November, 1977.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall never thought to ask what Sirius and Remus had been doing in her classroom that evening. So the two boys served their detentions relatively cheerfully, and everyone was happy.

"I can't _believe_ you got detentions," said James, stretching out on the sofa in the common room, opposite where his friends were sitting.

"Well," said Sirius. "If you think I'm giving up on our competition to see who could get the most detentions just because you've decided to become all responsible, you've got another thing coming."

"And Moony?"

Sirius gave Remus a sly, sideways glance. "Moony was an unfortunate casualty."

James sighed. "It's irresponsible," he said, casting a glance across the room to where Lily Evans was sitting. She looked up from her book and smiled in his direction.

"Oh," said Sirius. "_Oh. _All becomes clear. Young Mr. Potter thinks Evans will like him more if he disapproves of detention." Sirius shakes his head slightly. "Where has my friend gone?"

"Has Lily really forgotten about all the detentions _you've _had?" asked Remus.

James waved a dismissive hand. "Childhood misdemeanors. Not like you two, two adults who insist on making their best friend look bad by pissing off McGonagall."

"Come down off your high horse, James," said Remus. "It's just a detention - or three, in Sirius's case."

"But I'm not on a horse."

Remus and Sirius both looked at James in disbelief, before he continued. "You're the Head Boy's best friends, you should be acting responsibly."

Sirius shrugged. "If I was acting responsibly, I wouldn't be me. And if I wasn't me, I wouldn't be your best friend. Fancy a walk, Remus?"

"Am I not invited?" huffed James.

"Not until you've calmed down and stopped acting like your dad."

"My dad's -"

"- great, but a grown-up," said Sirius, sternly. "Now, if you don't mind..." he stood up.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

"Sit with Lily," suggested Remus.

"Or Peter," said Sirius. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Went for a _stroll_ with Helen," grumbled James. "Just like you two are doing, actually. If you don't let me come with you, I'll tell everyone you're a couple."

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows. "Maybe we are," he said, grabbing Remus's hand, pulling him to his feet, and dragging him out of the common room.

With a chuckle, James sauntered over to Lily's seat.

Outside Gryffindor Tower, Remus was red with embarassment. "What were you playing at, saying that to James?"

Sirius looked quizzically at Remus. "It's okay, I did the eyebrow thing. He'll know it was a joke."

"You know the eyebrow thing just makes you look like you've got an itch, don't you?" asked Remus. "And it's not a joke, is it?"

Sirius's gaze became even more questioning. Whilst it was true that they'd kissed - several times - since that night in McGonagall's classroom, and even discussed it a little, there'd been no official decision, and certainly no dates. Sirius glanced up and down the corridor and, seeing that it was empty, quickly turned and tackled Remus, pushing him up against the wall. Sirius put his hands on either side of Remus's head and looked at him curiously. Remus bit his lip - most distractingly, Sirius thought.

"So," said Sirius, in a quiet, deep voice. "We're a couple, are we?"

Remus shrugged. "Do you want to be?"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Well, what would it entail? Would we have to act like James and Lily? All coy glances and little smiles and not really communicating much?"

"I was thinking more of acting just like us, like we always do, but -" Remus pressed a tiny kiss to Sirius's jaw, "- more kissing, and more -" he then ran his hands gently up Sirius's sides, making him shiver, "- touching."

Sirius gulped. "Right, then, well...I think I can manage that." He leaned in slowly, and Remus felt his own hands shaking slightly, as he looked up into Sirius's face. They were so close that all that Remus could see were sparkling grey eyes and thick, black lashes.

At the sound of footsteps, both boys sprang apart. When Professor Dumbledore rounded the corner, he came face to face with two rather flustered-looking young men. "Mr. Lupin, Mr. Black," he said pleasantly. "Is everything alright?"

Sirius made a high-pitched noise, then cleared his throat. "Yes, Professor," he said. "We were just -"

"- taking a walk," said Remus quietly.

"Ah, well then, don't let me disturb you in such a wholesome activity," said Professor Dumbledore. Sirius coughed. "Make sure you return to Gryffindor Tower in plenty of time," continued the Professor. "I heard that you, Mr. Black, only recently finished a stint of detentions for Professor McGonagall, and it would be a shame for you to have to return to them so soon."

"Yes, Professor," said Sirius, smiling weakly as Dumbledore walked away.

As the Headmaster disappeared out of sight, Remus exhaled deeply and slouched against the wall. "That was...horrifying."

"_Almost _horrifying," corrected Sirius, walking slowly up to the other boy. "Now, where were we?"

Remus's eyes shot up to meet Sirius's. "Are you _mad_? Dumbledore just -"

"- told us to get on with our wholesome activity," said Sirius with a lopsided smile. "I'd hate to let him down."

"I don't think -"

"Shhhh." Sirius pressed a finger to Remus's lips. "Apparently, you're my _boyfriend _or something, now. And if I can't kiss you in corridors, what _can _I do?"

Their eyes met. "Oh, fuck it," said Remus, pulling Sirius's head towards his own. When the kiss ended, both boys looked slightly dazed.

"Walk with me," said Sirius, and they set off along the corridor. "If this is - y'know, a...a _thing, _do you think we should tell people?"

Remus looked at him, wide-eyed. "I don't think we should display it. But maybe we should tell James and Peter."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. I don't think there's anything I haven't told James apart from about you...it'd make me uncomfortable, him not knowing."

"We should tell him, then. Tell them both."

In agreement, the boys went back to their common room.

When they got there, they were quickly ambushed by James, who dragged them to a corner. He looked a little wilder than usual, eyes glittering, hair even more wayward. "You'll never guess what," he said.

"Puddlemere United signed Bagman?" guessed Sirius.

"Don't be stupid, he'll never leave the Wasps," dismissed James. "No, I asked Lily out - and she said yes!"

Sirius and Remus both congratulated their friend, with much smiling and laughter.

"She says I've really grown up," says James. "I mean, she said she wasn't promising anything, like marriage or babies or even a relationship, but she promised me a date and said we'll take it from there."

"I'm really happy for you," said Remus warmly.

"Thanks," said James, grinning so hard his face must be hurting. The portrait-hole opened, and Peter walked in, accompanied by a pretty blonde. "Peter!" said James, leaping up. "Sorry, Helen, just borrowing him, come on Pete, just a minute, I just want to tell you -" he dragged Peter over to the corner where Sirius and Remus were sitting, "- Pete, I asked Lily out and she said yes!"

Peter made a slight squeaking noise. "That's brilliant!" he said, even jumping up and down a little to show his excitement. "Look, I'm going to go and say goodnight to Helen, then I'm going up to bed, it's getting pretty late and I _have _to get up early tomorrow and do that Transfiguration essay, but we'll talk more tomorrow, okay!"

With agreement from James and a quick chat with the other two, Peter walked away.

"I mean, I'm just so happy," James said. "I never really thought she'd say yes, and it's happening, it's really happening, it's a dream come true -"

Sirius slapped James relatively gently on the cheek.

"- what the fuck, Sirius?"

"You were getting hysterical," explained his friend. "I understand you're happy, and we're happy for you, but there's no need to go mental."

James relaxed. "Right. Sorry about that. So what shall we do now?"

They spent a cheerful half-hour or so playing wizard chess and chatting, until they were the only people left in the common room.

With a glance from Remus, Sirius began. "Look, James, there's something I want you to know..."

"Mmmm?" said James, pouring over the chess-board.

"James...Remus and I, we're together."

"I know, here with me, too."

Sirius and Remus exchanged half exasperated, half amused looks.

"We're _together," _said Remus.

"A couple," added Sirius.

James glanced up at his friends, laughing slightly. "Yeah, right," he said.

Sirius sighed impatiently. "James, stop looking at the chess-board and pay attention. Remus and I are together. Romantically."

James's eyes widened. He looked from Sirius to Remus, who nodded. "I don't believe you," whispered James.

Sirius sighed again. "Come here," he muttered to Remus, and before Remus could respond, Sirius was kissing him full on the lips.

James's shocked face slowly formed a smile. "You're not...is this because earlier, I said...but -"

"You're rambling," said Remus. "I'm sorry you had to see that, I know it must have been weird for you."

"No, it wasn't, well it was in the sense that it was like watching my brother kiss...my other brother, which when I say it like that, _does _sound weird, but you know, it's just kissing, isn't it, and if I say anything stupid now, you'll never let me kiss Lily in your presence, and she's an obstacle enough to _that _without me making enemies of you, and -"

"James, you're really rambling," said Sirius.

James stopped. "Right. Well, yes, I suppose I was." He looked at his friends, his eyes searching their faces. "This is real, isn't it? Not a joke or some really bizarre dream or something?"

Sirius laughed. "It's really real. James, are you okay with this?"

James nodded. "Fucking _hell. _Two of my best mates. Merlin, I didn't see this coming."

"But is it okay?" asked Remus, slightly nervous.

"Yeah," said James, reaching forward to shake his friends' hands. "Congratulations...I'm sorry, I'm acting stupidly, I know, but..._fuck. _I mean, just...give me a while to get used to it, yeah? I'm happy for you but it's come as a bit of a shock." He looked at both of them. "Right, well, if you hurt each other, I'm going to have to kill you both."

Laughing, all three boys went up to their dormitory.


	7. Summer, 1996, part 4

Summer, 1996.

"You're nervous," says Tonks, rifling through the day's food basket.

Remus looks at her with a bemused expression. "I...what?"

"Nervous. I was just wondering why, really." Hand at the bottom of the basket, Tonks finally finds what she's looking for. "Aha!" she says, triumphantly. "Biscuit?"

Remus declines. "I'm not nervous."

His young friend raises one arched eyebrow. "You've been getting more and more nervous for days. I can _tell. _I mean, the full moon's tonight, but you don't get nervous just for any old full moon -"

"How do you know?"

"If I told you," said Tonks with a wink, munching on her biscuit, "I'd have to kill you. But I reckon it must be something about this particular full moon...I've narrowed it down to a) it's the first full moon without Sirius and you don't like going through it without him, and b) you promised Dumbledore you'd talk about the whole spying thing once the full moon was over. One or the other. Am I close?"

Remus looks away.

"Both?" asks Tonks. "I was thinking about it, and I thought it was more likely to be the Dumbledore thing. I mean, I know Sirius was your friend, but you managed loads of full moons without him when you were a kid, and 12 years of it when he was in prison. It was only the last year or so when he could join you -"

"Sirius was an easy person to get used to having around," puts in Remus.

Tonks grins. "You've got that right. Predictable only in the sense that you knew he was going to be _un_predictable, eh?"

Her reward is a small smile from Remus.

"Well, I can't help you with either of those things - neither stopping time nor bringing people back from the dead are really in my repertoire - but I can help you with the full moon." She slips her hand into her bag and pulls out a small container. "Wolfsbane," she says. "I knew you wouldn't have any."

Remus takes the bottle from her outstretched hand. "Did you make it?" he asks.

She slaps his arm gently. "There's no need to act so surprised. I'm pretty good at Potions, you know. Although, actually, I thought it was best to get something so difficult from a professional, so..." she shrugs, and smiles.

"Tonks, tell me it was a respectable apothecary. Some of the cheaper places just put any old thing in bottles and sell it as complicated, expensive potions."

"I know. That's why I got it from Snape."

"What?" Remus is surprised. He's never known anyone but Dumbledore persuade Severus Snape to help him. "How on earth did you manage that?"

Tonks's eyes twinkle. "Well, I was very persuasive. Kind, you know, and polite." She smiles, seeing Remus's raised eyebrow. "But he didn't seem very impressed, so I threatened him, a bit. Then he went and got the potion. Had it ready-made and everything, I think you've got a fan."

Remus gives a short laugh. "Unlikely. Dumbledore probably told him in advance."

"Well, whatever the reason, it's yours." Tonks surveys him. "It helps, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Remus's voice is quiet, controlled. "I mean, obviously the transition still hurts, and being a werewolf is never fun, but at least when I take the potion I know I'm not dangerous, know I'm not going to hurt anyone."

Tonks sips her tea slowly, gazing into the unlit fireplace. "I could stay with you. Tonight."

Remus is surprised. "I don't think so, Tonks."

"But if you're not dangerous -"

"I don't like being seen like that. And whilst the potion does stop me from being dangerous, there's never any real guarantee, is there?"

"But I don't like the thought of you being alone." Tonks' cheeks are slightly pink, and this time it's _Remus _who's looking at _her _curiously.

"I'm used to being alone," he tells her. "I've had plenty of practice."

Silence follows - a little awkward, a little thoughtful, but mostly sad. Remus sighs. "Thank you, though," he says.

She shrugs. "I just want to help you."

"I know," he says. "I understand." But he doesn't, really. He doesn't understand that she wants to help him, but that he doesn't see pity in her eyes. HE doesn't understand why she's doing what she's doing, and not understanding makes him uncomfortable. "Tonks, you don't have to keep visiting me like this. What about work?"

Tonks smiles. "Kingsley's my immediate superior, and he knows what I'm doing, and approves, so he's letting me be pretty flexible with my work - mornings, evenings, some nights. And he's important and respected enough to stop other people asking questions."

"But what about your own life? Your family, your friends? Aren't you missing out on time with them?"

"It's just me and my parents at home, and I see _them _all the time," she replies. "Dad's parents are dead and he doesn't have any brothers or sisters, and he's not close to his extended family because none of them even know he's a wizard. And as for Mum's people, well - you know all about them I bet."

Remus laughs softly. "I may have heard a story or two. And your friends?"

"I'm not really that close to anyone. I mean, at school I was kind of friends with everybody, but not really close to anyone, and I haven't really kept in touch with them. And at work, and in the Order, there are plenty of people I get on with. But there's no-one I feel I should spend more time with, no-one I'm being stopped from seeing by seeing you. Seriously, Remus, don't worry about it."

"You didn't have best friends or anything?"

Tonks grins. "I know that's hard for you to believe - we've all heard all about your little coterie - but I've always been happy with having lots of people I get on with, rather than a few I know really well."

Remus regards her once more, with curiosity. "Really, Tonks. You don't have to be here. I can't imagine it's fun for you: we've only been outside a few times, and we spend most of our time in this house, doing nothing."

She places one hand lightly on his. "Don't worry. The minute I get bored by coming to see you, I'll let you know and I'll stop coming. But I'm not bored yet."

An hour or two later, Tonks leaves - reluctantly. But Remus insists that it simply isn't a good idea for her to stay, to be in the house whilst he's a werewolf, even a subdued one. And when she's gone, he wanders the house for a while, dreading what is to come. At the right time, he takes his potion, and then waits yet again for the moon to arrive. He's done this, been through this, every month for most of his life, but the dread never lessens, it never goes away. He goes upstairs, paces, and waits.


End file.
